Class 

Book. j 

Copyright N° 




!W_ 2Ll 



j 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



The Upward Look 



INCLUDING THE BOOK FORMERLY PUB- 
LISHED UNDER THE TITLE, "GOLDEN 
RULE MEDITATIONS," WITH PRAYERS 
FOR EACH DAY OF A MONTH 



By AMOS R. WELLS 




BOSTON AND CHICAGO 
The United Society of Christian Endeavor 






THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 


Two Copies Received 


I'JL t5 


1903 


<l Copyright 


Entry 1 


h^y b - 


/<r^ ! 


CLASS &- 


XXc No. 


COPY 



S. 



Copyrighted, i8qj, igoj, 
By The United Society of Christian Endeavor 



CONTENTS 



I. ON SABBATHS I 

II. ON UNDESERVED LOVE 3 

III. ON PALTRY SUCCESSES 5 

IV. ON A CROWDED LIFE ...... 7 

V. ON THE FEAR OF DEATH .... 9 

VI. ON men's APPROVAL II 

VII. ON GOODS 13 

VIII. ON WORKING WITH OTHERS . . . 1 5 

IX. ON PRAISE 17 

X. ON MANY BURDENS 19 

XI. ON LONELINESS 21 

XII. ON DEBTS 23 

XIII. ON STUMBLINGS 25 

XIV. ON CONFESSING FAULTS 27 

XV. ON COMMONPLACE PEOPLE .... 29 

XVI. ON HARDSHIPS 31 

XVII. ON JUDGING OTHERS '33 

XVIII. ON LONG GRIEF 35 

XIX. ON THE BIBLE ^7 

XX. ON TRIFLES 39 

XXI. ON THE LOSS OF CREDIT . . . . 41 

XXII. ON ENVY 43 

XXIII. ON PITY 45 

XXIV. ON GLOOM 47 

xxv. on worship 49 

XXVI. on unselfishness $1 

iii 



iv CONTENTS 

XXVII. ON COWARDICE ........ 53 

XXVIII. ON AN ERRING FRIEND 55 

XXIX. ON THE COMING DAY 57 

XXX. ON SATISFACTION 59 

XXXI. ON NEEDLESS WORRY 6l 

XXXII. ON INGRATITUDE 63 

XXXIII. ON STUDY 65 

XXXIV. ON A DISMAL DAY 67 

XXXV. ON REST 69 

XXXVI. ON COVETOUSNESS 71 

XXXVII. ON THE JOYS OF NATURE . . . . J^ 

XXXVIII. ON PEACEFULNESS 75 

XXXIX. ON MAJORITIES ........ 77 

XL. ON INSIGNIFICANCE ...... 79 

XLI. .ON RESULTS 8l 

XLII. ON TIME FOR WORK 83 

XLIII. ON HEROISM 85 

XLIV. ON HIDING SORROW 87 

XLV. ON THANKSGIVING . 89 

XLVI. ON SINGLENESS OF MIND . . . . 91 

XLVII. ON OPPOSITION 93 

XLVIII. ON UNSEEN THINGS 95 

XLIX. ON REMEMBERING • 97 

L. ON CHRISTMAS 99 

LI. ON FEAR FOR OTHERS IOI 

HI. ON THE COMING YEAR 103 

THE UPWARD LOOK IO5 



ON SABBATHS 

HOW beautiful is this Sabbath day ! 
Spirits of rest brood in the heav- 
ens and walk about the earth. Some- 
thing is missing from my shoulders ; it 
is the burden of yesterday. My mind, 
yesterday so oppressed with cares, for- 
gets even what load has been lifted. I 
have not planned for this peace. God, 
far back in the creation, and through all 
the wise ordering of the ages, has been 
preparing it for me. God has thrust it 
upon me, though yesterday I should 
have rejected it to continue my tasks. 
Ah ! why has he not forced upon me a 
continual Sabbath ? Indeed, may I not 
have it ? These bird-songs are the same 
as Saturday. Saturday's sunshine was 
as holy, air as clear, and trees as gra- 
cious. The Sabbath has come within 



2 THE UPWARD LOOK 

me, for God and his world keep Sabbath 
all the time. Yield me the secret, O 
Father, by which thou dost carry on 
works so mighty with such abiding peace- 
fulness. Let me teach my tasks to sing 
a Sabbath anthem with me. Let me 
teach my heart to cease from fretting on 
thy Sabbath days. Here on earth let 
me begin the Sabbath of eternity, whose 
toil is fruitful because it is untroubled, 
whose rest is perfect because it sings 
with labor. Draw me, Father of Sab- 
baths, close to thee and to thy peace. 



II 

ON UNDESERVED LOVE 

MY loved ones love me as if I de- 
served their love. It is poured 
out unearned, slighted, and even re- 
buked. It is so great that a little kind- 
ness satisfies it, and it goes on. It is so 
foolish that it even transforms my faults 
into virtues, and sees something to love 
in all my ugliness. What angers others 
only pains my loved ones ; and the evil 
in me that others do not try to forget, 
they do not even remember. Or do they 
hide their pain when I slight them, as I 
afterwards hide my remorse and shame ? 
and is their contentment with me partly 
feigned, like my carelessness ? Let me 
cease to brood over such thoughts, that 
I may the more manfully make them im- 
possible. O thou who dost see in all 
true disciples thy mother and sister and 



4 THE UPWARD LOOK 

brother, I cast upon thee all my burden 
of sin against my loved ones. Thy great 
love will fill up the great lack in mine. 
Thou wilt unburden me of the past, and 
thou wilt direct me into worthier ways. 
O thou who didst never cause a heart- 
ache, teach thy servant to love. O 
thou from whom affection never shrank 
abashed, teach thy servant to love. O 
thou who wert never too busy to be 
kind, teach thy servant to love. I will 
be taught of thee, and win myself from 
shame. 



Ill 

ON PALTRY SUCCESSES 

I DID the best God then gave me to 
do, and felt depressed because God 
gave me no better. When shall I gain 
the healthy mind, the cheery spirit, that 
is triumphant when God works his will 
with me ? Is not that to be illustrious 
enough ? What matters it whether his 
will deals with my failures or my suc- 
cesses, with great deeds or petty deeds, 
so that it deals with me ? It is more 
blessed to be used of God in small deeds 
than in great, because then I shall be 
sure that God honors me for myself and 
not for my works. It is better that the 
applause of men should be hushed, that 
in the silence I may hear God's approval. 
Would I have my patent of nobility 
signed by the scullion as well as by the 
king? Father, grant me the power to 

5 



6 THE UPWARD LOOK 

leave my work, after it is done, with thee 
and not with men. Father, I would have 
no rival to thy " Well done ! " Help me 
to such love for thee that I can spare 
men's praise. Nay, help me, Father, to 
such love for men that I can spare men's 
praise. What are we, that we should 
judge each other scornfully ? Ah, what 
are we, that we should judge each other 
praisefully ? Thou art the Judge, whether 
to exalt or depress. To thee alone we 
rise ; from thee alone we fall ; and not 
from men. Be thou so near me that, 
with all faithfulness to the world's work 
and all love for men, whether they love 
me or slight me, I may yet live to none 
but thee. 



IV 

ON A CROWDED LIFE 

I AM troubled about my living. So 
much to do with power so slight, so 
many things with so little time, so sacred 
duties with so feeble inspiration. Re- 
quirement presses on requirement half 
accomplished, and the good keeps me so 
busy that I have no time to seek the 
better. Here and there, everywhere in 
my life, are loose ends, fragments of ac- 
complishment. Nothing is beautifully 
finished. Nothing is rounded into solid 
usefulness. Some day will there not 
come a crash in all this ill-formed life of 
mine, tumbling it into fitting chaos ? 
Creator, Father, shall I ever make my- 
self what thou didst intend me ? O for- 
give me, Father, that I forgot thou didst 
create me ! O forgive me, Creator, that 
I forgot thy fatherhood ! Thy creatures 

7 



8 THE UPWARD LOOK 

crowd space beyond space, but thy love 
reaches farther. The time whose limits 
oppress me, thou didst create. The 
small strength which thou didst give me 
is akin to thy great strength, and may 
summon it. Thou didst create me and 
thou dost love me. So firmly by those 
two strands is my life knit to thine that 
if, while I am doing my best, my life 
should tumble into ruin, it must draw 
thine infinite being with it. O, that what 
I thus know with my mind I may know 
with my heart ! Assure me of thy pres- 
ence with me in my work. Teach me 
to form my life by letting thee form it. 
Tenderly draw me out of my f retfulness 
into thy peace. 



ON THE FEAR OF DEATH 

WHY do I fear death for myself ? 
It is not because I dread the pain 
of dissolution, for the pain of a tooth- 
ache is often worse. It is not a shrink- 
ing from the darkness beyond, because 
Christ has made it all light to me, prov- 
ing that God is good. It is not doubt 
of a happy heaven ; I have not so known 
my Saviour. Nor is it always, though it 
often is, unwillingness to leave the fair 
expanse of earth, its joys but little tried, 
my work in it so poorly done ; for I 
know that death can mean no narrow- 
ing of enjoyment, no break in any true 
undertaking. More often my fear of 
death is born of others' fear. My dear 
ones, how they grieve when loved ones 
die ! What pitiful, white faces, and 
choking sighs, and black garb, true em- 

9 



io THE UPWARD LOOK 

blem of darkened lives ! And I know 
that, unworthy as I am of such love, 
their sorrow would be long and deep for 
me. So I fear death for myself because 
I pity others ; yes, and I fear death for 
others because I pity myself. Their 
endless gain I count less than my few 
years of loss. Their emancipation, their 
exaltation, their enlargement, their riches 
of life with the Lord, — a selfish tear dis- 
solves it all from my memory. Why 
cannot we be more brave, my loved ones 
and I ? We are to live forever ; why 
should we love like ephemerals ? Why 
should the short separation to come em- 
bitter with salt tears our dwelling to- 
gether here ? To them and to me, O 
Lord of death and of life, gracious Lord 
of life and of death, grant the wisdom 
that sees things truly, grant the courage 
that knows but one Master, grant the 
love that is serene forever, resting on 
the arm of the undying One. 



VI 

ON MEN'S APPROVAL 

YESTERDAY I was successful. I 
did my work swiftly and well, and 
won men's hearty praise. And then I 
worked the harder, and became still 
more successful, to win greater praise ; 
but the praise did not come. Thereupon 
I became gloomy and discontented, and 
the lack of men's praise embittered all 
my work; so that I cried in anger, 
" What is the use of toiling for ungrate- 
ful men ? " Thus I turned all my suc- 
cesses into failure, because I forgot that 
thou, O God, art my only success. And 
thus I turned all my accomplishment 
into ashes, because I forgot that thou, O 
Christ, art my only accomplishment — 
to win thy smile and thine indwelling. 
Will it be wrong if, in this coming day, 
I remember with joy as I work that men 



i2 THE UPWARD LOOK 

will praise me for it ? Is it wrong to be 
pleased with any applause but thine ? 
'Thou wouldst not say so, for thou didst 
teach us to care for human love ; and 
men's approval is sweet because their 
love is sweet. Yet forgive me, Lord, 
because I have set men's love above 
thy matchless love, and have been dis- 
consolate at missing this lesser love, as 
if the owner of a diamond mine should 
fret for a gravel bank. And as long as 
this praise of my brothers and sisters 
dulls my ears to thy whisper of warning 
or of blessing, grant that all human 
tongues may be chained from commen- 
dation, and all human hands held from 
applause. 



VII 

ON GOODS 

POSSIBLY it was the roaring of the 
flame up the chimney ; or possibly 
it was the fire alarm which just sounded. 
For some cause, at any rate, my thoughts 
have turned to my dearest material pos- 
sessions, my books. I doubt not others 
have goods as dear, — books likewise, 
or silks, or pictures, or gems, — but I 
wonder if they are so fearful for their 
treasures as I for mine. Here my books 
are, ranked before me in their kindly 
covers, old friends and trusty, every leaf 
heavy with golden memories. But a 
match in a luckless corner, or a faulty flue 
in my neighbor's house, and they would 
be gone, nor could all the world replace 
them. What should I do without them ? 
Ah, what shall I do without them, when 
I have done with -material things, when 



i 4 THE UPWARD LOOK 

I go to the land of spirit ? Yet how do 
I know that I must learn to do without 
them ? Eye hath not seen nor mind 
conceived the joys the Father hath in 
store. But ah ! those joys are for those 
who love him, and with the whole heart. 
Take, then, from my heart, O Giver of 
all good, whatever love of thy good 
things prevents supreme love of thee. 
Make me willing for the loss of all 
things, books, friends, home, all things, 
that I may find thee. Then, I know, I 
shall truly find all my possessions for 
the first time. 



VIII 

ON WORKING WITH OTHERS 

IF one could only work alone ! How 
annoying to have my plans pushed 
awry by the plans of others, my work 
left incomplete through the failure of 
their work, my zeal checked by their op- 
position ! How difficult to have patience 
with the slow, to restrain the over-eager, 
to correct mistakes, to repeat careful in- 
structions ! Not only my time is lost, 
but my energy and spirit for work. 
There is discipline won in dealing with 
men, but might it not be won in easier 
ways ? I may do them good, but how 
unkind in them to need my good offices ! 
If I could work alone, every hindrance 
would be removed but my own faults, 
and every annoyance would cease but 
my own peevishness. Truly, these would 
be enough, without the peevishness and 



16 THE UPWARD LOOK 

faults of others. my Master, when 
thou wert on the earth, how didst thou 
endure to work with men ? Thou who 
art perfect, with their imperfections; 
and thou who art all-gracious, with their 
gracelessness ? When I remember how 
thou didst say, " Father, forgive them," 
and how patient thou wert when thy dis- 
ciples all forsook thee, I am ashamed 
of my complaining. Do my friends, I 
wonder, thus complain at my being with 
them ? Would they, too, prefer to work 
alone ? Grant me such gracious help- 
fulness, my Father, that they may never 
have that thought of me ; and such hu- 
mility, that I may cease to have that 
thought of them. 



IX 

ON PRAISE 

OTHAT my words were choirs, 
each choir of a thousand songs ! 
Thanksgiving itself is graceless, and 
shamed by the truth. My days have 
been all ungrateful, and so must they be 
forever. Yet it is meet, my Father, to 
offer thee unmeet praise. Praise for the 
knowledge of thee, and for the assur- 
ance that it will grow constantly clearer. 
Praise that thou hast given me the secret 
of infinite years, hast taught me immor- 
tality. Praise for the hope of heaven. 
Praise for the translation of earth, its 
commonplace become marvels, its wor- 
ries become calmness, its aches become 
promises. Praise for my tasks where- 
with thou dost let me help thee in thy 
mighty labors. Praise for the dear de- 
lights of home and loved ones. Praise 



18 THE UPWARD LOOK 

for the every-day blessings of sun and 
air and sky and soil, of warmth and 
shelter. Praise for books and a mind 
that can feed upon them. Praise for the 
Book that dwarfs all books. Praise for 
friends, for helpers, for lovers. And 
praise, praise, praise, for the friendship, 
the help, the mighty and wonderful love 
of Christ Jesus my Lord. 



X 

ON MANY BURDENS 

HOW much I have to do to-day! 
And not only how much, but what 
a variety of things ! Involved with my 
work, too, is the work of others, who 
may be lazy or incompetent, and whose 
fault may spoil my labor. And I must 
meet many people, the ill-natured, the 
mean, the debasing ; and before all these 
men, and in all these trials, I must be 
calm and strong and cheery, illustrating 
the doctrine of my Lord. Surely my 
cares are many, and my tasks beyond 
my power to accomplish. Ah, foolish 
being that I am, I have nothing to do ! 
Nothing to do, O Christ the toiler, be- 
cause thou dost do it all ; and no care 
to fret about, because thou carest for 
me. Forgive me because I go all thy 
sweet day through with phantoms of 



2o THE UPWARD LOOK 

burdens weighing me down, fancying 
that I am bearing the load, when I bear 
only the semblance of it ! Forgive me 
because I fret so many of thy sweet 
hours away, cowering before ghosts of 
cares whose real selves thou hast long 
ago put to flight ! Forgive me, and 
pity me, because these unrealities seem 
often very real to me ; and teach my 
eyes to see the truth. Keep me from 
conjuring up, with my pride of self, 
with my weak distrust of heaven, these 
brain-born worries and empty fears. In 
this calm morning meditation I am sure 
of thine upholding. Maintain, O Lord, 
that trust throughout the day. 



XI 

ON LONELINESS 

NOW I go forth into the day alone. 
My dear ones are far away, and 
none but strangers about me. What do 
they know of my needs, my hopes, my 
fears ? Yes, and what do I know of 
theirs ? Kind people they may be, but 
how may I know of their kindness ? 
Their wisdom and strength and beauty 
of soul are all, to a stranger, as if they 
were not. It is a sad thing to be alone 
in God's crowded world. In God's 
world ! O Father, forgive me. Forgive 
me, thou Elder Brother, who wert de- 
serted by all thy disciples ! I remember 
now that thou wert lonely in order that 
no man henceforth need know loneli- 
ness ; " that where thou art we may be 
also." I had forgotten that thou art 
with me. And I had not thought what 



22 THE UPWARD LOOK 

throngs thou bringest with thee ; for in 
this great city how many thousands dwell 
in thee, and with them I shall dwell daily 
when I live in thee. Why can I not feel 
this, O my Father ? Why do I ever deem 
myself alone ? Why do I not exult daily 
and hourly in my riches of friends in 
thee ? Something in my heart tells me 
the reason, — tells me that I lack the 
unselfish love which is thy passport into 
thy kingdom of friends, where is no soli- 
tude. Help me to this love, my loving 
Father, for I am tired of being alone. 



XII 

ON DEBTS 

HOW much that is in my life for 
strength and joy is not my own, 
but the gift of others ! Here I take 
daily credit for the exercise of abilities 
which others have chiefly developed, in 
ways of usefulness which others have 
opened to me. Subtract from my life 
what teachers and friends and books 
have put there, and surely the remnant 
would permit no pride. Touches of love, 
inspiration of example, the promptings 
of confidence reposed in me, prayers of 
God's saints, kindly counsel of my eld- 
ers, — by a thousand daily happenings 
such as these, I am upheld and moved 
without my knowledge. Yes, and with- 
out my gratitude. For this, forgive me, 
revered teachers, loved friends, and 
friendly books. Forgive me, thou God 
23 



24 THE UPWARD LOOK 

of all upholding. When, in all thine 
eternal years, shall I have paid my 
debts, I who have not yet understood 
them ? Must I be bankrupt through 
ages of ages ? If it be thy will, O Lord. 
Thou didst make me weak, needing a 
world of helpers, that so I might learn 
the hill whence cometh the help of the 
world. I shall not be ashamed in thy 
great day though the good I have done 
to others be dwarfed by the good they 
have done to me, if this has been thy 
will for all. Perhaps the love even of a 
debtor may help to save mankind. 



XIII 

ON STUMBLINGS 

DAILY and hourly, when I would be 
strong, I am weak. Falling into 
traps I have spread for myself, stumbling 
against obstacles I myself have reared, 
vainglorious yet despising myself, confi- 
dent and headstrong under a dismal 
burden of failures that no one sees but 
God and his angels, — how dare I walk 
in these familiar paths ? What assur- 
ance have I that where I have so often 
sinned I shall not sin again ? My pride 
is the same, and my fall will be the 
same. And if I flee from the tempta- 
tions that daily vanquish me, the very 
flight will bring me more completely un- 
der their sway. God will not be there 
more than here ; nor will evil be less at 
another place or another time. A morn- 
ing of good deeds will not save me from 
25 



26 THE UPWARD LOOK 

an afternoon of sin. My eyes fill with 
tears at the thought of my Saviour, and 
yet I pass from the story of his perfect 
years to a life all foul with selfishness. 
O Christ, thou knowest my frame, thou 
knowest why I fall ; I know not. I am 
not strong enough even to get from thee 
the help I need. Do thou press it on 
me. Take a tempted life that yields to 
sin, and force it to yield to thee. Lead 
me not into temptation ; deliver me 
from evil. 



XIV 

ON CONFESSING FAULTS 

WHY do I always increase and 
perpetuate my faults by my un- 
willingness to confess them ? I cover 
my shame and let it smoulder, instead of 
bidding it consume openly before men's 
eyes the dross that is in me. My rare 
petitions for forgiveness have melted 
my soul, have left me at peace ; yet still 
I shrink from the winning of this rest. 
It is not hard to abase myself before 
God ; when no eye sees, save his, to 
throw ashes on my head, and beat my 
breast in despair and remorse. Why 
should it be hard, then, to ask the par- 
don of God's creatures ? Ah, I fear that 
I think more of my offence toward men 
than of my offence toward God ; other- 
wise, it would be easy to confess to men, 
but I should tremble to draw near the 
27 



28 THE UPWARD LOOK 

throne of the Just One. Take from me, 
O merciful Judge, my shamefaced fear 
of the brother whom I have offended, 
and cause me to fear in shame the God 
whom I have much more offended. 
Thus I may more often ask my brother's 
forgiveness ; thus I may less often need 
to seek in despondency the blessed for- 
giveness of my Lord. 



XV 

ON COMMONPLACE PEOPLE 

MY conscience accuses me that T 
treated my acquaintance ill. What- 
ever the outward appearance, there was 
no heart of kindliness. And that was 
all because I thought the man common- 
place. Are there, then, men in whom I 
dare be uninterested ? Men upon whom 
God has set his image, though it is 
marred and blurred, men of hopes and 
joys and fears, men who will live forever, 
— who am I, to call these commonplace ? 
What but one of the very common places 
of God's universe do I fill ? When my 
Lord was upon the earth, he did not at- 
tach himself to poets and deep thinkers, 
but to men of humdrum, ordinary lives. 
In that marvellous way he proved his 
divinity, by discerning God's image un- 
der man's commonplace. Why cannot 
29 



3 o THE UPWARD LOOK 

I do the same ? There it is, beneath 
the slouching gait, the dull eyes, the 
boorish tongue, the uncouth manner, 
there lies God's image, asleep, yet ready 
to be wakened into beauty. Why can- 
not I awaken it, as Christ did, with 
the kiss of love ? Ah ! it is because I 
have not the heart of love. It is be- 
cause my eyes are veiled with pride, and 
my lips frozen with egotism. Forgive 
me, forgive me, thou royal Jesus ! For- 
give me, and help me to climb up into 
thy kingly humility, that sees, and un- 
derstands, and loves the most common- 
place things, because itself is not com- 
monplace. 



XVI 

ON HARDSHIPS 

I LOOK back over the years thou hast 
given me, my Father, and though 
the happy days are sweet and many, it 
is the days of hardship that I remember, 
and remember to bless. In them tliou 
didst teach me thy waiting strength. In 
them I drew close to thy love. Through 
them I came to rise above the frets of 
time and to know the joy of immortality. 
They interpreted the world to me, and 
myself to the world. Thou hast fed me 
with rich hardships, and I have grown. 
And how patient thou hast been with 
*my petulance, as I flung out my arms 
against thee in the night, and buffeted 
thy wise designs in the daytime ! Thy 
corrections have been few for such a 
peevish child. And what shall I think 
of the worries that now harass me ? 
31 



32 THE UPWARD LOOK 

Shall I learn nothing from the past, but 
continue to fight God's leading ? O 
thou Shepherd of men, well do I know 
these sharp grievances to be but the 
brambles thou hast set to keep my feet 
from straying, and the disappointments 
and failures that vex me are the pres- 
sure of thy restraining hand. Knowing 
it, may I live that knowledge ! May joy 
sing on my lips, and peace shine in my 
eyes, and the faith that never fails dwell 
in my heart. So may I walk with thee 
through the lights and shadows of the 
world, and know no darkness, 



XVII 

ON JUDGING OTHERS 

MY words were true, and the re- 
buke was needed ; and yet I am 
ashamed that I gave it. I gave it in 
humility, conscious that I might sin in 
the same way ; yet I repent as if for 
pride. Why am I afraid to deal frankly 
with my brothers ? It is not fear of 
them, but of myself. For, though I in- 
vite criticism, my heart fights against 
it; and though I am sometimes brave 
enough to give it, I am never brave 
enough to receive it. And what right 
have I to impose on others a burden I 
shrink from ? Yet it should not be a 
burden. How much I might help my 
friend by telling him of that one fault of 
his ! How greatly I need to know my 
own ! I should not be unkindly silent 
simply^ because he may misjudge my 

33 



34 THE UPWARD LOOK 

motives. Judge ? Ah, who was it said, 
" Judge not " ? I have been judging my 
friend ; in humility and lovingly, yet I 
have judged him. And I myself would 
not be judged with that judgment, save 
by the all-seeing One. Help me, thou 
pitying Judge, to help my brother and 
be helped by him, humbly leaving with 
thee all decision on our lives. 



XVIII 

ON LONG GRIEF 

THE old grief again, the same as 
yesterday, bitter as when it burst 
upon me months ago. My prayers have 
not lessened its anguish, and the conso- 
lations of religion have not softened the 
hardness of it. The very cares and per- 
plexities of this world are kinder to me, 
for they make me forget it, until it 
rushes back upon me in some quiet 
hour when I have time to think. O 
God, is it thy will that I should be pur- 
sued by this grief through all the years 
of eternity ? In man is no help ; is 
there none in thee ? The peace that in 
all things else thy Son's religion gives 
me, in dealings with men, in turmoil of 
business, in studies and in friendships, 
— is this peace to fail where I need it 
most ? Or at least where I wish it most. 



36 THE UPWARD LOOK 

For thou, God, dost know my need. 
In all things else I can see that thou 
hast known my need. Shall I not trust 
thy hand at this one point of darkness ? 
From thine own Son thou didst not re- 
move the bitter cup. Thou didst press 
it to his lips when his soul cried out in 
anguish. Shall I ask thee to spare me? 
I will bless thy name that my grief is 
but one. Though it is heavy, I will 
bless thee that it is no heavier. If it be 
thy will that through all eternity this 
grief shall be my comrade, grant me 
grace to say, Father, thy will be done. 
There is no lack of love with thee, and 
thy love has no lack of wisdom. Thy 
loving will be done. 



XIX 

ON THE BIBLE 

HOW shall I read aright in the book 
of the law ? My brothers speak 
of unfailing joy in it, but I cannot say 
that. My sisters seek it with a hunger 
and a thirst that I do not feel. I re- 
member hours when its strong words 
have borne me up to God's throne, to 
the city of peace, to the river of life ; 
but I remember, also, many an hour of 
level reading that lifted me no fraction 
from my worries. Why art thou not al- 
ways with thy book, O God, or with thy 
servant when he reads it ? Yet, hold ! 
What am I to chide God, or chafe at his 
withdrawal, or set the hour of his com- 
ing and the length of his stay ? Mine 
it is to seek him ever in the ways of his 
appointing ; and his it is to make me 
conscious of his nearness when he will. 

37 



38 THE UPWARD LOOK 

Mine it is to be grateful for the visions 
God has shown me, to count one* hour 
of grace from his book enough, and 
honor it forever for that hour ; his it is 
to crown my gratitude with higher rev- 
elations, and bless the obedient eyes 
with sweeter visions. Make me willing, 
my Father, for one pearl of great truth 
to sell my days and nights. Teach me 
to prize the Bible I know, that I may 
come to know a holier one. 



XX 

ON TRIFLES 

WHY can I not separate the essen- 
tials of my life from the non- 
essentials ? Here I am as gloomy over 
the peevishness of a subordinate as I 
would be on the death of a friend ; and 
yesterday the failure to have my own 
way about a trifle made my whole life- 
work seem darkly ruined. What avails 
my heirship of eternity if I shuffle along, 
the slave of time ? What avails it that 
the King is my Father, if every worldly 
worry is my master ? What avails it 
that my mind can look before and after, 
if its clownish, timorous gaze is fettered 
to the clay I walk on ? Men have gone 
about their duller tasks more faithfully 
than I, have met with more compelling 
vigor the prosaic foes of humdrum toil, 
and yet have kept calm spirits through 



4 o THE UPWARD LOOK 

it all, and never have ceased to hear the 
songs of angels. Instead of disagree- 
ments with well-meaning friends, others 
have borne the bitter rush of foes. In- 
stead of backward eddies in a swiftly- 
prosperous stream, others have had to 
breast opposing waves, and never have 
known success. They were more blest 
in their woes than I in my blessings. 
Ah, my God, I deserve the lightning of 
thine anger ! Well might it turn my 
fortune into curses, my friends into foes, 
and my peevish fuming into sorrow with 
cause ! But spare me in thy mercy as 
thou hast spared me. Grant me the 
wisdom to know my happiness, wherein 
it lies. Help me to the strength that 
holds on to thee. Help me to the sane- 
ness that sees things in their right pro- 
portions, and to the peace that all earth's 
turmoils cannot shake. For thou, O God 
my Father, art health and peace, and 
the help that never fails. 



XXI 

ON THE LOSS OF CREDIT 

THAT was a good piece of work, 
and he got the credit for it. How 
often this happens to me, that others 
are praised for things I have done, or at 
least made possible for them to do ! 
Why should I continue to labor, while 
others reap my reward ? An unjust and 
unwise world, so blind to men's deserv- 
ing ! Could not God render to every 
one his reward according to his deeds ? 
— Ah, faithless wretch that I am, he has 
promised to do that very thing ! What 
reward do I profess to seek, other than 
his approval ? What reward do I really 
seek, other than men's approval and my 
own ? O thou who didst say of such as 
I, " They have their reward," save me 
from self-deceit. I deserve the misun- 
derstanding of others, I who am so in- 



42 THE UPWARD LOOK 

sincere with myself. O Christ, who didst 
seek recognition for thy work only that 
thy Father might be recognized in it, 
teach me the like zealous humility. 
Show me how much credit I, too, am 
getting for things I owe to others. Help 
me to prefer my brother's honor to my 
own. Teach me rather to dread unde- 
served praise than to seek the praise I 
deserve. Grant me wisdom to lose all 
thought of what I have done in shame 
at the pettiness of it, when measured 
against thy plans, and thy mighty, ever- 
ready help. 



XXII 

ON ENVY 

WHY must I envy all excellency in 
others ? What should it be to 
me that this one makes beautiful music, 
that this one is a strong orator, that this 
one, again, is shrewd in handicraft ? It 
is well to admire others ; but this is 
more than admiration, because it makes 
me miserable. It is well to be ambi- 
tious ; but this is less than ambition, be- 
cause it makes me weak. This orator — 
is he skilled in music ? This painter — 
is he a good mechanic ? These all have 
their one gift, and I have mine : why 
should I long for theirs ? What should 
theirs be to me but an added joy and 
pride ? Is not the Lord of all talents 
with theirs as he is with mine ? But 
ah ! is he with mine ? He cannot be 
with discontent, half-hearted zeal, and 



44 THE UPWARD LOOK 

glances cast aslant. He cannot remain 
with gifts so gracelessly received O 
God of my talent ! teach me how to use 
it. I would be so filled with the joy of 
it that I have no wish for other gifts ; so 
firm in loyalty to it that other allegiance 
would be impossible. Then I shall praise 
thee for the talents of other men, when 
I have learned to praise thee for my 
own. 



XXIII 

ON PITY 

I ENDURE too complaisantly the 
sorrows of others. The pitying 
word is ready, but not always the pity- 
ing heart; and when my condolences 
do not cheat me, I wonder if they ever 
deceive another. Is not sorrow too sad 
a thing to be saddened still more by hy- 
pocrisy ? If my heart is not tender, is it 
well to soften my voice ? And then, the 
wretched selfishness of it : when a petty 
worry of mine dulls my ears to a neigh- 
bor's calamity, and a pain in my finger 
occupies me more than his loss of his 
child. Is this loving my neighbor as my- 
self? O Christ, thy way is hard, thy 
precepts are high, I cannot attain to 
them ! I grovel in my mean and petty 
self-love, which is hateful to me, yet I 
am ever slipping back into it. Have 

45 



46 THE UPWARD LOOK 

pity upon me, with that pity which I 
grudge to others. Strengthen this weak 
sorrow of mine, that it may spend itself 
away from itself. Thy woe upon earth 
was greater than all earth's pain, and it 
was woe that men bore so lightly the 
pains of their brothers. Forgive me, O 
Christ, that I thus grieve thy heart. For- 
give me, that I thus mar thy image in 
myself. And teach me, that serving 
others after thine own blessed way, I 
may lose, in the divine sorrow of sym- 
pathy, the sorrow and shame of my un- 
feeling heart. 



XXIV 

ON GLOOM 

THE God of joy bids me be happy, 
yet I let my heart be troubled. My 
mind tells me that gloom is sin, and 
straightway cheerlessness condemns me. 
Friends, a host of them, will be en- 
camped around me ; above me will float 
the banner of love ; the work of my 
hands will be prospered ; yet my life 
will be so sadly poised withal, and in- 
clined away from what is sane and peace- 
ful, that the lightest touch of the finger 
of failure will overturn it into the Slough 
of Despond. O Christ of Cana, how 
may my life be a feast ? O thou who 
dost flood the universe with the light of 
thy sun, shine in my life, not now and 
then, but forever. I am weary of joy's 
uncertainty, of the peace that is fickle 
as a desert stream. Grant me thy peace 



48 THE UPWARD LOOK 

that floweth as a river, thy peace that 
recks not of its peacefulness, thy joy 
whose essence is the joy of others. 
Make me so busy with useful work that 
I shall not feel the touch of the finger 
of failure. So breathe into me the en- 
ergy of thy strong purposes that I shall 
not need to sit at a feast. Help me to 
such pity for the trouble of others that I 
shall be careless whether my own heart 
is troubled or not. Let thy joy be in 
me, that my joy may be fulfilled. 



XXV 

ON WORSHIP 

I PROFESS with my lips a love for 
the courts of the Lord, but that love 
is very languid, and easy to be refused. 
This half-willing church-going cheats 
men and cheats me, but it does not 
cheat God. He knows when the heart 
stays at home. And yet I would not 
wait to be willing to go to the house of 
the Lord. Yesterday I went with slow 
feet, but they bore me to the gates of 
heaven. Many and many a time God 
has thus shamed with a blessing my 
wandering desires. Surely his sanctuary 
has light even for half-shut eyes, and 
God's music reaches even to listless 
ears. Surely God will be pleased if even 
by grudging attendance I say, " Lord, I 
am willing that thou shouldest help my 
unwillingness." But will he be pleased 



50 THE UPWARD LOOK 

if, as for so many years, I remain satis- 
fied with my unwillingness ? How can 
I come to love God constantly, with such 
fickle love for God's sanctuary ? Nay, 
is it hot, rather, that I will love God's 
house more when I have come to love 
God more ? Forgive me, Father, that I 
have so often dishonored the Holy Spirit 
by regarding die eloquence of men, the 
harmony of human choirs, the imposing 
throng below and rich roof above, rather 
than thy eloquence and beauty, and the 
singing of thy peace. Teach me to 
know with the life what I now know 
with the mind, that the secret of joy in 
worship is love of God and service of 
men. 



XXVI 

ON UNSELFISHNESS 

WHEN I drive out thoughts of self 
with thoughts of others, my joy 
comes in with their joy. When I go 
about doing good, my sorrows stay at 
home, and all gladness runs to find me. 
On such days my worries hide away, 
my failures and disappointments are for- 
gotten, my eye looks brightly upon the 
future, what time it is not entranced 
with the present. Such seasons have 
been mine, my Father ; and yet, O what 
a stupid scholar I am ! I turn from what 
I have found so pleasant, and seek the 
old, sad ways of selfishness. Is it a dis- 
temper in my blood, a madness in my 
veins ? Is it in punishment for my sins, 
that though I know happiness I flee from 
it ? O God, I am wrong at heart ; my 
instincts are not pure, they are not safe 



52 THE UPWARD LOOK 

guides \ leave me not alone with them. 
I need thee every hour, my judgment is 
so weak before the spirit of evil with 
which I contend; my conscience is so 
easily entreated, and my will led captive 
by misery. Lord, I will be glad that 
my instincts are untrue, for their treach- 
ery shall lead me to trust in thee. 



XXVII 

ON COWARDICE 

A CRAVEN disciple, a faint-hearfed 
follower, a cowardly Christian ! 
What will my Lord say to me in that day 
when he speaks his praise and utters 
his terrible blame ? I have heard Christ 
reviled, and my silence condemned my- 
self more than it abashed the blas- 
phemers. I have listened to skeptics 
parading their wilful doubts, and my 
faith has been as mute as unfaith. 
When testimony to God's love and 
power has been wanted, my lips have 
been dumb. When others have been 
tearing down the idols of error, my 
hands have hung by my side. Where 
witness-bearing was easy and to be ap- 
plauded, I have lifted up my voice. 
Into places where men scorn the name 
of Christ, into drunkards' dens, the 

53 



54 THE UPWARD LOOK 

hovels of outcasts, prisons, and haunts 
of vice, I have not gone. What sacrifice 
have I made for thee, Christ? What 
hardship have I borne for thee, O Christ ? 
What indignity have I suffered for thee, 

Christ ? And thou hast loved me. 
And thou hast heaped thy kindnesses 
upon me. I am rich in all things, ex- 
cept in service. I quiet myself with the 
thought that no chance for heroism has 
come ; but it has. I quiet myself with 
the thought that thou hast called others 
to these tasks ; but thou hast called me. 

1 persuade myself that at some future 
time I will do thy will ; but I will not, 
because I am not about it now. As thy 
apostles of old prayed to thee for bold- 
ness, so do I, out of my craven fear and 
indecision, O Lord, Christ of Gethse- 
mane ! Grant that I may speak thy word 
with all boldness, while thou stretchest 
forth thy hand. And as thou didst shake 
their meeting place, in testimony of ful- 
filment, shake thou my very life from its 
foundations, if thou wilt. Lift my spirit, 
O Lord, into thy places of power. 



XXVIII 

ON AN ERRING FRIEND 

WHY does the discovery of that 
fault in my honored friend chill 
my faith in man and God alike ? I have 
been seeking perfection in the sinful, and 
wisdom in the fallible. I have made an 
idol of the creature, and God has merci- 
fully overthrown my idol. Shall I be 
angry with my friend, whose fault has 
sent me back to God ? Shall I be angry 
with my God, who has made friends but 
little lower than the angels ? Shall I 
not rather be angry with myself for my 
foolish estimates both of God and man ? 
I thank thee, Father, for the nobility of 
my brothers, who with me are toiling at 
the tasks of the world, fighting against 
the evil within them and without. Even 
for their failings I thank thee, so far as 
in them I see my own heart mirrored, 

55 



56 THE UPWARD LOOK 

and am led to the only purity, strength, 
and perfect love of the universe. Grant 
me a knowledge of thee far higher than 
comes from thy marred image. Teach 
me to look upon thy countenance un- 
veiled in its glory. From that sight I 
shall learn how to look upon my friends. 



XXIX 

ON THE COMING DAY . 

TO-DAY, if things go wrong, let 
me consider whether the wrong is 
within me or without; and if it is within 
me, I shall not be disconsolate, because 
then I can remedy it ; and if it is with- 
out, I shall surely not be disconsolate, 
because that would do no good. To-day, 
if I am reproached with any mistake, 
let me first decide whether I am in 
error ; for if I am not, then I shall be 
glad, because the reproach cannot harm 
me ; and if I am justly reproached, then 
I shall thank God for so faithful friends. 
To-day, if I become depressed, let me 
examine carefully the cause of my de- 
pression ; then, if there is no just cause, 
I shall feel ashamed, but relieved ; and 
if I have any genuine grief, then I shall 
know that God will come especially near 

*57 



58 THE UPWARD LOOK 

to me to help me bear it. Through 
this day, my Father, Satan will press 
upon me in many forms, but chiefly in 
the disguise of my own feelings. Pro- 
tect me from them, I pray thee. Grant 
my reason such shrewdness and my 
heart such force of cheer that I shall 
pierce through Satan's black mists to 
the secret joy of things. Be with my 
eyes to-day, that they may see how all is 
good, in earth and in heaven. 



XXX 

ON SATISFACTION 

THERE was I again, urging others 
to a life of content, while my own 
is poisoned with frequent dissatisfaction ; 
arguing the Christian's duty of happi- 
ness, though my sadness gave the lie to 
my plea \ even preaching courage out of 
cowardly lips. I am not like the Phari- 
sees, that lay on others burdens they will 
not touch ; for I am heavily burdened, 
yet counsel others to throw aside their 
weights. And this is an added burden, 
that I must choose between a faithless 
silence and a confession so poorly lived. 
This, with all troubles beside, I bring to 
thee, thou Burden-bearer. Thou wilt be 
displeased as I am with my life, and thou 
wilt bid me continue my lip professions 
of thee, and so thou wilt not lessen my 
shame, but rather increase it ; and yet 

59 



6o THE UPWARD LOOK 

thou wilt give me peace. Peace in the 
assurance of thy power, which grows 
as my weakness grows. Peace in the 
remembrance that thou knowest in all 
points what temptation means, and re- 
memberest that I am dust. Peace in 
the promise of the eternal years, wherein 
I shall see thee and be like thee, and 
thus even put to shame my present 
mocking ideals. I pray thee for grace 
to see what I lack of the best, and to be 
courageously dissatisfied. I pray thee 
for grace to know what my small best is, 
that I may be satisfied bravely. 



XXXI 

ON NEEDLESS WORRY 

THERE are few dark days in my 
life that do not shine out brightly 
against the years that have settled about 
them. Soon, doubtless, these few also 
will be tenderly interpreted by time. O 
the long hours, the strength and happi- 
ness lost by my feeble faith ! O the 
wasting worries over joys disguised as 
griefs, and over curses that I have come 
to bless thee for, my Father ! In the 
growing greatness of thy favor, — no 
greater now than before, but more 
clearly seen, — how paltry appear my 
fretting and my frowning, my needless 
fears, and my faultfinding convicted of 
blindness ! I have been so impatient 
with this good world and the good 
heaven above it. Scornful of others 
whose minds were skeptical of truth, 

61 



62 THE UPWARD LOOK 

my own faltering, moody heart has been 
more skeptical than they. Henceforth I 
will make the best of life. Nay, I will 
not ; for thou hast already made the 
best of it for me ! I will not wait for 
thy years to disclose the proof of it ; 
my heart shall know it now. Send what 
thou wilt, but send with it strength to 
keep this resolve. My reasoning will 
not suffice ; I need thy help to be happy. 



XXXII 

ON INGRATITUDE 

MY prayers are long wails of peti- 
tion ; they should be anthems of 
praise. Is my life so meagre that my 
converse with the giver of it should em- 
phasize its lack, rather than its fulness ? 
Verily,^ I am needy enough, but my need 
springs from my lack of contentment, 
from my poverty of peace and of praise. 
The crudest catalogue of my blessings 
should shame me into happiness. I will 
force myself to the instinct of thanks- 
giving. I will magnify my goods ; nay, 
they need no magnifying. Rather, my 
own heart needs enlarging. Who can 
widen its reaches, out beyond petty wor- 
ries and mean complaints, into the sun- 
light of God's love? Who, but God 
himself ? If God be with me, petition 
need be but a breath, and all the air will 
63 



64 THE UPWARD LOOK 

be praise. Blessed Spirit of peace, in- 
terpret thyself to me ; thy love, and my 
blessedness. Help me, that in unwonted 
joy I may even forget the sin of my in- 
gratitude. Thou art in the world, draw- 
ing it to thyself. Thou dost plead with 
me through lips of cloud and flower, 
with the eloquence of friendship and 
opportunity. Thy gates of happiness 
stand open on the right hand and on the 
left. Thou thyself, O Christ, didst pass 
outside them into my cheerless walks, to 
invite me in. Praise to thee for thy love 
and thy cheer ; praise for thy manly 
strength and thy wisdom thou art ready 
to give ; praise for the power of praise. 



XXXIII 

ON STUDY 

THE other day I was downcast at 
thought of how little I can learn. 
The sight of textbooks annoys me, and 
a library catalogue invites despondency ; 
for there is so much to learn, and I am 
so ignorant. Things that need to be 
done, and that I am eager to do, I can- 
not do, because I do not know enough. 
The busy years speed mockingly by, and 
crowd fresh learning into libraries, even 
while they crowd from my memory what 
once I knew. Will there not come some 
happy years, toward the close of life, 
when I can withdraw from the bustle of 
affairs, and live in libraries ? What joy 
to revel in the beauties of old languages, 
to tread the corridors of the past, and 
walk through the present world with 
leisure to see its wonders and come to 

65 



66 THE UPWARD LOOK 

understand its perfection ! What joy to 
become a scholar, before I die ! Yet 
the world into which I shall die will have 
slight use for my scholarship. The wisest 
books will be child's primers there ; we 
shall be turned with gladness from the 
archives of the past to the archives of 
the future ; the mysteries and splendors 
of the universe will be our playthings ; 
and all the tongues of earth will seem 
but savage babble. O Father, if the 
work thou dost give me to do requires 
study, I will study, helped by thee ; but 
if thou dost set me tasks that can be 
done without the lore of libraries, I will 
not count myself unhappy. Help me to 
be a student of the things that will not 
perish, a scholar of the eternities. 



XXXIV 

ON A DISMAL DAY 

TO-DAY, while all things are gloomy 
without, be all things bright within. 
Let me oppose the peace of my soul to 
the storm in the sky. Why should these 
dull clouds of matter, moved here and 
there almost by the breath of chance, 
affect my fickle spirit ? Is this a nature 
meet for eternity, when the pettiest 
things of time can disconcert it ? I am 
serving poor apprenticeship to those 
constant years. I am preparing little 
save fret and fume to carry into their 
smiling serenity. If my temper is at 
the mercy of a lowering sky, yet more is 
it speedily soured by a lowering fortune. 
Nay, so prone am I to this degenerate 
darkness, so tied to the gloomy elements 
of this world, that when all the heavens 
are kind, I make from nothing a shadow 

6 7 



68 THE UPWARD LOOK 

for myself to dwell in. Forgive me, 
Father of all joy. Forgive me, Christ 
of Cana. Make me ashamed for my 
childishness, and lift me into manhood. 
Make me ashamed for the lives my 
fretfulness has embittered. Make me 
ashamed for every spot whereon my 
shadow has fallen. dwell thou in me, 
and every shadow will be sunshine. 
dwell thou in me, and all my sad fickle- 
ness will pass away. Come to me this 
day, thou joyous Comforter, and thy joy 
will be in me, and my joy be fulfilled. 



XXXV 

ON REST 

HOW hard it is to rest ! Into what 
should be hours of calm thought, 
of joyful converse, of prayerful retro- 
spect or prospect, creep reminders of 
present worries, or fears of coming ill. 
I know their sinfulness 'and the shame 
of it, and long for a happier temper that 
might give me rest. But no rest comes 
from within, for there is intrenched the 
spirit of unrest. A thousand longings 
are satisfied, and I grieve at the failure 
of one. A single vacant place means 
more than a hundred God has filled. 
The beauty and love that I have, I 
mourn because I am not worthy to own 
them ; and the beauty and love that I 
lack, I mourn because they are not mine. 
I fret in Reasons of activity because my 
work is burdensome, and in seasons of 



7 o THE UPWARD LOOK 

rest because my work is at a standstill. 
Where, in what school or with what 
teacher or by what lonely study, can I 
learn how to rest ? O thou who didst 
promise rest to the souls of the world, 
come to me in healing quiet. O thou 
who on thy seventh day didst create rest, 
thou alone canst give it, and I cannot 
earn it. Spirit of peace, grant me grace 
to rest in thee. 



XXXVI 

ON COVETOUSNESS 

THOU hast made this world a beau- 
tiful world, Creator, Father. For- 
bid that I should distil temptation from 
its beauty. Why can I not see green 
lawns, rare flowers, generous dwelling- 
places, without poisoning by covetous- 
ness the delight of my eyes ? Why can 
I not look upon the river and the wooded 
hills with gratitude for the glance that 
should bring peace into my fevered day, 
rather than complain that it is only a 
glance? Why do the splendid piles that 
skill and energy have raised crush with 
weakening envy my energy and skill ? 
For me the elm has queenly form, for 
me the pansies have color, though I do 
not own them. To me the passing 
glimpse of the forest and the mountain 
may give a blessing they withhold from 
71 



72 THE UPWARD LOOK 

the dweller in their midst. I bless thee 
that thou hast given to so many leisure 
and a quiet life. I bless thee that such 
throngs may live in wealth and ease. I 
bless thee that the woods are there, and 
the flowers and the ocean, waiting for 
my coming. I bless thee that thou dost 
sweeten my life with labor, and give zest 
by hours of toil to my moments of rest 
and delight. Let my delight be also in 
my work, and my rest there, too, O my 
God. Let it be my coveted luxury to do 
thy will. 



XXXVII 

ON THE JOYS OF NATURE 

THAT was a gloomy week — the 
last one. The skies were bright, 
but I saw only a cloud of black worries. 
I walked through the sunshine proof 
against its winsomeness, and moped by 
myself or snarled among my friends. 
But this week I have let God have his 
way with me. I have filled myself full 
of his beauty and his strong peace. 
The sweet, silent growing of the flowers 
has shamed me ; the fresh air has lashed 
my will to action ; the trees have taught 
me, as they serve God by standing still ; 
the army of modest grass-blades has 
sung me a battle-song. My work has 
taken to itself something of the energy 
of nature, and much of its ardent peace. 
Thy world, O Creator, has myriad mes- 
sages for me. I need thy help to receive 

73 



74 THE UPWARD LOOK 

them. I need thy spirit of unselfishness, 
that I may leave the cold cell wherein 
I have shut myself with my frets and 
my more difficult sorrows, and aban- 
don myself to the majesty and loveli- 
ness whereby thou wouldst instruct me. 
These delights of the natural world, 
O God, — sunsets, morning splendors, 
colors and scents and sounds, — are thy 
ministers, to do thy pleasure. Thou art 
ready, I well know, to serve me with 
them. O make me ready and zealous to 
be served. 



XXXVIII 

ON PEACEFULNESS 

THE cares of the world throng thick 
about me. No time for thought- 
fulness, no time for quietness, no time 
for the winning of peace. Longings for 
heaven are drowned in the clamor of 
earth, and I am too busy with living to 
get ready to live. How can one be in 
the world yet not of it, push through its 
noisy streets as if he were treading the 
celestial pavements, hear over its babel 
the chant of angel voices ? How can I 
win the calmness that passes unmoved 
amid dangers and walks quietly through 
all the world's confusion ? Ah, possibly 
I should not have this calmness. Who 
has told me that God meant it for me ? 
It may be his will that I should have no 
time for the winning of peace until the 
rest of death steals upon me ; yes, and 

75 



76 THE UPWARD LOOK 

not even then. If so, then unrest for 
me, Lord Jesus ! Then conflict is my 
peace, and toil is my quietness, and hour 
hurried on to hour is the best prepara- 
tion for the eternal years. In the life 
thou dost send me I shall best get ready 
to live. If the angel voices cannot 
pierce through its noises, they will sound 
with a sweeter surprise some day. If 
throughout this life my feet must be hot 
upon earth's pavements, the shores of 
the crystal sea will be the more delight- 
ful. Thy will be done in me on earth, 
O Lord, that I may do thy will in heaven. 



XXXIX 

ON MAJORITIES 

DO I think that it will not be safe 
for me to take God at his word 
until the majority also take him at his 
word ? Am I afraid that " the other 
things " will not be " added unto " me, 
who seek first the kingdom of heaven, 
if my competitors are seeking first the 
kingdoms of the earth ? From this time 
forth, then, let me cease to compete 
with my competitors. Let me make 
trial to-day of the divine partnership. 
I will forget that I live in a state whose 
governor is gold, and in a city whose 
mayor is selfishness. God shall be my 
state and my city. Dwelling in him, 
even if it should be alone, I must pity 
the lonelinesss of all other men. And 
if, as I go about my work, I am tempted 
out into boastings and bargainings, ad- 

77 



78 THE UPWARD LOOK 

vertisement and the counting of heads, 
what shall I do ? Pray ; as even now 
I pray to thee, thou lonely Christ, who 
art drawing all men to thy loneliness, 
not that I may be kept from the world, 
but that I may be kept from the evil in 
it. Save me, out of a timorous regard 
for other men, into care for two beings 
only : thee, and my brother whom I may 
help to thy joy. 



XL 

ON INSIGNIFICANCE 

WHAT a pygmy am I among these 
immense buildings ! How I am 
lost among these hurrying throngs J 
Who of these thousands knows my 
name or cares about my purposes ? 
What will avail the conduct of my life, 
be it brave and strenuous or weak and 
ignoble ? What matters it whether the 
raindrop swallowed up of the ocean 
be a pure raindrop or a tainted one? 
Doubtless here is need enough, unrest, 
and ignorance, and misery enough ; but 
so there are diseases among the forest 
trees : shall the petty ant that crawls 
over their roots play the physician to the 
oaks ? Doubtless, lost also somewhere 
among the busy swarms, are other men 
who, in the love of Christ, are willing to 
give themselves for Christ's needy ; but 
how to find them, and by what sign to 



8o THE UPWARD LOOK 

know them ? Here are vast enterprises 
dwarfing the largest designs of the 
church. Here is power, power in money, 
in machinery, in men, mightier a thou- 
sandfold than all of these powers the 
church has on her side. Here is a babel 
of noises, the tradesman, the laborer, 
the newsboy, the vagrant, the politician, 
the steam- whistle ; and the church-bells 
are drowned in the clamor. How can 
the strongest will, the purest mind, the 
widest love, make an impression on this 
tumult ? Silly egotist, who placed you 
in this world to make an impression ? 
Who ordained your voice to still earth's 
babel ? Is it not by the many God works 
upon the many ? What can save the 
world but the obedience of the insig- 
nificant ? Are not the greatest things, 
love and duty, possible for the smallest 
men, in the most hidden places ? Do 
your duty, then, cheerily, humbly, be- 
cause you are so little ; cheerily, proudly, 
because Christ will work in you, O my 
soul. And do thou, my Saviour, save 
me from thoughts of self. 



XLI 

ON RESULTS 

ON what am I to work to-day ? On 
wood, cloth, and iron, on paper 
and canvas ? No ; on myself, and on my 
neighbor. And these visible materials, 
this wood and iron, together with the 
tools I use, are themselves the tools of 
my invisible tasks. This much is sure ; 
only it is all so vague. If I could handle 
the results of the day ! If I could 
count the coin it brings ! If I could 
reckon up my gains as I add my deposits 
at the bank ! Save me, O thou who 
workest hitherto, from the sluggishness 
of blinded eyes ! Over my ledger, ham- 
mer, or needle, I have bent so long that 
I cannot straighten to see thee above 
them. But thou canst see me, and canst 
show thyself to me in them. That pres- 
ence will dignify them where they were 

81 



82 THE UPWARD LOOK 

trivial, beautify them where they were 
coarse, fill with romance the most com- 
monplace of them. And when thou 
hast revealed to me the relation of my 
tasks to thee, then I shall see clearly 
how they affect my neighbor and myself. 
If my work does not shrink at thine in- 
dwelling, but endures it, I shall know 
that my work is true to men and safe for 
me. Teach me, O Christ the Laborer, 
truly to know and do my own true toil. 



XLII 

ON TIME FOR WORK 

WHY didst thou send me so large 
purposes, O my Father, with so 
little time to work them out ? Thou- 
hast so touched my heart and crowded 
my days that as I see more and more 
that needs to be done, I have less and 
less time for the doing. O lengthen my 
days, prolong my years, or else blind me 
to the need of the world. Grant me an 
eternity to work in. Indeed, what have 
I, then ? Less than eternity ? And what 
matters it that my eternity will not be on 
earth ? Rather, it would be a dreadful 
thing to live here forever, since man will 
not live here forever. And it would be 
a dreadful thing to have petty purposes, 
with the eternal years before me. For- 
bid that the whirl of this earth's eddy of 
time should confuse me into forgetful- 
83 



84 THE UPWARD LOOK 

ness of the eternal years. Teach thy 
hot-headed apprentice an enthusiasm for 
thy patient processes. Remind me ever 
by promptings to more than this life can 
give me, or I can give to this life, that 
my being is to soar beyond these hurried 
years and beginnings of tasks, into ages 
of satisfying accomplishment. Thus 
may my common days be mated with 
eternity. 



XLIII 

ON HEROISM 

WHEN I read of the heroes of old, 
I bow my head in shame. Was 
it for such as I that they sang in the fire, 
preached joyously in prison, faced lions 
with a smile ? What gain to me from 
all their heroism if I am to go through 
life shrinking before human disapproval, 
covetous at sight of others' good, and 
weak with disappointment and discon- 
tent? What boots it that I know the 
way of heroism if I do not walk in it, or 
that I admire the brave if I do not imi- 
tate their bravery ? I count men's words 
of praise as a miser counts his coin. I 
lose the good I have in longing for other 
goods. My desire to help men falls 
down dead at shock of a discourtesy. 
And so falsely do I train my inclinations 
and my feelings that those circumstances 
85 



86 THE UPWARD LOOK 

seem most material to me which my rea- 
son tells me are most immaterial, and 
the essentials of happy usefulness are 
tossed aside. thou who didst create 
men and their world, and who with all 
thy loving nearness to us art so inde- 
pendent of us, grant to me, thy creature, 
something of thine independence. Be 
thou my satisfaction, my sufficient praise, 
my ease, my goods, my world. Teach 
me that if I regard thee, I need not re- 
gard men, save with the brave love 
wherewith thou dost regard them, — the 
love that gives, but does not require. 
Help me to be so much thy creature, 
my Father, that I may not be the crea- 
ture of thy world. 



XLIV 

ON HIDING SORROW 

IT was only a moment's trouble, soon 
to be chased away by work and plea- 
sure ; but I named it as I left my dear 
ones, and darkened the day for them. 
Why do I thoughtlessly force others to 
share my sorrows when they cannot 
share their transformation into joy ? 
Nay ; why not give others my joys, and 
keep my sorrows to myself? I want 
sympathy, and my dear ones want to 
give it, that is true ; but their sympathy 
will find calls enough from griefs and 
pains I cannot hide ; let me not weight 
it overmuch. It does not lighten these 
petty worries to thrust them on others' 
shoulders ; I merely add to my own the 
burden of shame and remorse. Let me, 
rather, hide bravely my troubles when I 
can, and lighten them by lightening the 
87 



88 THE UPWARD LOOK 

load of some dear one. Does not the 
Bible hint to me that I may best bear 
my own burdens by bearing the burdens 
of others ? Dear Lord, how often my 
querulousness magnifies a cloud .no 
larger, to my own life, than a man's 
hand, into a blackness that covers all 
the heavens for those who love me ! 
Dear Lord, could they know, as thou 
dost know, how lightly rest upon me 
these troubles of mine they take so seri- 
ously ! O Christ, who on earth didst 
never parade thy sorrow, but even at 
its deadliest withdrew it under the dark 
olive-trees in the Garden, teach my 
tongue fit silence from its little frets, 
that thus my heart may come to dis- 
regard them. Teach me to exhibit my 
life to others in its just proportions, not 
sadder than it is to my loved ones, and 
sunnier than it is to all beside. So, 
when great sorrows come, I shall have 
gained strength to bear them, and shall 
have laid up in my loved ones a reservoir 
of cheer. 



XLV 

ON THANKSGIVING 

HOW grateful I should be to God 
that his kindness does not cease 
with my gratitude ! Each day that adds 
to God's unfailing mercies heaps higher 
the shame of my discontent. The dull 
earth carries in its heart the stored-up 
memory of past sunshine and fruitful 
showers, and shows on its daily face the 
tokens of them all; but from my duller 
soul a moment's annoyance wipes away 
all remembrance of joy. I am ashamed 
before the blithe stanchness of the trees. 
The fresh and smiling air upbraids me. 
The glowing sentences of the Book point 
fingers at me. I am rebuked by a myriad 
of bright faces, shining with the beauty 
of thanksgiving. Thou knowest my life, 
O God. Thou hast seen me choose 
darkness rather than light. Thou hast 



go THE UPWARD LOOK 

heard my complaining lips snarl at the 
songs of thy saints. Day after day 
thy angels of cheer have knocked at 
my gloomy doors. Thou dost know 
all my perversity. But my heart is bold, 
for thou knowest also my sorrow. My 
shame is no less, but my hope is strong 
because thou dost see my shame. I can 
bar thy joy from my life, but I cannot 
shut out thy pity. In thy great mercy, 
pitying Father, lift from my life its load 
of discontent. Win for thyself an en- 
trance into my gloom, and lead me forth. 
All the wisdom of the world cannot 
teach me joy. All the power of the 
world cannot force it upon me. All the 
happiness of the world cannot shame 
me to it. Grant me, strong and loving 
Father, out of thine abundant grace, the 
grace of thanksgiving. 



XLVI 

ON SINGLENESS OF MIND 

I AM so careworn about many things 
that it is plain I am not seeking the 
one great thing. Or, if I seek it, it is 
with the carelessness that lets itself be 
vexed with other cares. When I hold 
the overmastering thought of God, I am 
not held of my worries. When I am 
directed of thee, O my Father, my per- 
plexing tasks find* swift direction, and 
march in ordered submission. When I 
have placed thy will first, it gives my 
will power to control and to accomplish. 
If my life is troubled, it is only for lack 
of thy peace. If calls to diverse duties 
harass me, it is because I have not lis- 
tened to thy single call. How much time 
I have lost, blunderingly striving to use 
thy time ! How much energy I have 
wasted, wrongly choosing my work ! 
91 



92 THE UPWARD LOOK 

Thou doest myriad deeds where I do 
one. All the countless intricacies of 
the universe move in harmony to nicely 
adjusted ends. There is no fret, no 
friction, in thy workshops. And thou 
wilt send to my workshop all this power 
and skill. O Lord, forgive thy foolish 
servant, who, like a headstrong appren- 
tice, thought he had learned to direct. 
Work thy will with me, since not other- 
wise can I work my will for myself. 



XLVII 

ON OPPOSITION 

WHEN my words, meant for right, 
are turned from their meaning, 
why am I discomfited ? When my plans 
are opposed, plans that I think God's 
plans, too, w T hy should I be downcast? 
When men range themselves against me, 
me who have God on my side, what is 
more foolish than anger ? O my Father, 
is it only when I complain of thy provi- 
dences that I really hold thee all-powerful 
to work righteousness ? I have been 
dreading what the evil may do, as if 
thou wert weaker than they. Their 
words have provoked me, for I have for- 
gotten the thunders of thy judgment.- I 
have feared their designs, for I have for- 
gotten thy counsels. Their harsh glances 
have embittered me, for I have lost sight 
of thy countenance. Their anger has 

93 



94 THE UPWARD LOOK 

filled me with wrath, for I have not set 
before me thy love. Thou whose honor 
man's dishonor cannot mar, teach me 
that it cannot mar mine. Thou whose 
cause is its own great defence, teach me 
rather to find safety in it than seek 
safety for it. Thou who dost not mar 
w r ith passion or trembling the majestic 
progress of thy plans, teach me that thy 
plans need still less either my anger or 
my fears. Make it my one wish for my 
work, not that it may not fail, but that 
it may be espoused by the unfailing 
One. 



XLVIII 

ON UNSEEN THINGS 

I AM living in my body as if I were 
to live in it forever, and I may be 
done with it to-morrow. What I shall 
eat, wherewithal I shall be clothed, how 
I shall be housed, — such are not fit 
broodings for one who soon, at longest, 
will need no food or clothes or shelter, 
save the full delights of the many man- 
sions. Walls light as a whisper part me 
from an existence wherein no pain is, no 
tears, no failure, wherein loved ones 
know how we love, wherein scholars see 
swift visions of all truth, and the plea- 
sures we have made for ourselves are 
forgotten in the joys thou dost make for 
us, O God of all happiness. The life 
that now is, rich portal to thy blessed 
home, I look upon as an abode, and find 
it cold and cheerless. Teach me, O God, 

95 



g6 THE UPWARD LOOK 

the sane and heavenward look. Why 
should I fret at any failure here — failure 
of love or knowledge, power or skill, 
while the life of full fruition touches my 
uneasy life at every point, and offers 
perfect comfort ? Only a swing of the 
great pendulum of eternity, only an in- 
stant, as I shall look back on time, and 
all my heaviest troubles will seem more 
foolish than my childhood's griefs seem 
now. Help me, Ancient of days, to live 
in that happy time, while I work in the 
present. I am tired of serving the 
earth ; teach me immortality. 



XLIX 

ON REMEMBERING 

IT is easy to draw doubt and depres- 
sion from my past ; it is hard to 
draw from it inspiration and hope. Yet 
I should win as much cheer from the 
times when God has upheld me, as de- 
spair from the times when I, in my own 
power, have failed. I cherish in memory 
my defeats rather than God's victories. 
A thousand times God has empowered 
me to do this thing, and still I shrink 
from it as if God and his tasks had not 
been tried. Not thus am I to become a 
veteran of the Lord. Not thus will the 
fulness of almighty strength, vouchsafed 
to daily need and weak-winged prayers, 
be builded into my eternal character. 
O feeble heart and foolish memory, how 
many trials and proofs do you need for 
assurance ? When will you trust the 

97 



9 8 THE UPWARD LOOK 

Lord, if not now ? Had earthly friend 
been half as faithful, had mortal father 
been half as constant and kind, your 
confidence would rest unmovable on the 
rock of that experience. Because God 
is unseen, will you distrust his love, 
which is seen*? Because God does 
not speak with human voice, will you 
scorn his eloquent providences ? And 
will you dare to expect continued help 
from the God whose unfailing power 
your cowardice denies ? O my soul, be 
strong in the Lord ! In sweet remem- 
brance of his comforting presence, in 
brave remembrance of his upholding, 
in bold reliance on his forgiveness of 
your weakness, be strong in the Lord ! 



ON CHRISTMAS 

THERE will come, some glad day, 
a new Christmas, when Christ will 
be with men in visible form once more, 
to stand by our side, his loving hand 
holding ours, his strong voice moving 
the rejoicing air, his kind eye piercing 
to the hearts of men. I shall have no 
more worries, when he comes, for in 
him is fulness of joy. I shall have no 
griefs, when he comes, for he will bear 
all my burdens. When he comes, I 
shall be no more perplexed, for his 
wisdom is unfailing. All these things, 
together with sins and follies and vex- 
ations innumerable, will threaten my 
Christmas peace, unless he come. Oh, 
our Lord Christ, come this Christmas ! 
Thy weary world is waiting eagerly, and 
every Christmas more eagerly, for the 

99 

LofC. 



roo THE UPWARD LOOK 

glory and the health of thy coming. 
But art thou not here — or why am I 
talking with thee ? What should matter 
the sight of the eye, the touch of the 
hand, to one whose eye is soon to fail 
and hand to crumble into dust ? Art 
thou not here, in this room, blessed 
Master, as really as ever in the upper 
chamber at Jerusalem? Do I not see 
thee, with the sight of heaven, and hear 
thee, somewhat as seraphs hear? Thou 
hast come into my life in clouds of glory, 
with thy holy angels. Every day, when 
I receive thee, thou dost make a merry 
Christmas. So let it be with this gra- 
cious season. Open my faithless eyes 
and my infidel ears, and teach me to 
know thee. Be present in my life as 
really as my sister, my mother. One 
day with thee, O Christ, as one day with 
thee might be, and I think I could never 
be alone, and never lack a Christmas. 



LI 

ON FEAR FOR OTHERS 

SO many perils are round about my 
loved ones, — perils of sudden sick- 
ness, or of slow ailments concealed from 
me ; perils of accidents, from the forces 
of nature, or the forces of man ; perils 
of long grief, wasting desire, and lost 
hope ; so much of evil that may be 
coming to them, unseen by me, unseen 
by them, and inevitable. What can I 
do to assure the joy of my loved ones, 
their health of body and better health 
of mind ? What can I do to guard them 
from malady and myself from loneliness 
and sorrow ? For what should I do 
without my loved ones ? Ah, thou that 
knowest hearts, how much of this burden 
of fear is for myself ! Yet thou wilt 
regard the purity of my prayer, and sift 
its imperfections. Better to my loved 



io2 THE UPWARD LOOK 

ones is danger guarded by thee than 
safety preserved by myself. Better for 
them is thy sickness and grief and de- 
spair than my perfectings of joy. Yes ; 
and better for them is my abandonment 
of them than my fretfulness for them, if 
I yield them up to thee. Why should I, 
who perform so poorly the lower care 
for my dear ones, think of the higher ? 
Until I can make the one day brighter, 
let me leave their years to thee. Until 
I have fed more faithfully the common 
sources of their healthful cheer, let me 
cease to worry about their long sorrows 
or long joys. So shall I trustfully carry 
out the trust thou hast committed to 
me, and not imperil it by presumption. 
Teach me, loving Father, to love as 
knowing thee. 



LII 

ON THE COMING YEAR 

WHAT is before me in the coming 
year ? God has hidden it from 
me because I could not bear its sorrows. 
There are failures as wretched as any in 
the past, griefs as bitter, longings un- 
satisfied, ideals unattained. Or if in any 
way I may grow stronger and happier, a 
year's improvement will be almost un- 
noticed. And there are old sorrows 
that time will not soften, because it has 
not. I see them lying dark along the 
way before me, reaching into the black 
cloud, where they meet who knows 
what coming dangers and changes and 
pains ? God promises me no better 
years than he has given me. Indeed, 
what am I that I should ask for better 
years ? God is greater than my prayers 
have ever been. God is more eager 



104 THE UPWARD LOOK 

than my complaints. If nothing else in 
the universe were sure, this would be, 
that God has given me all the good I 
could bear. Uplifts from many a failure 
prove it, fierce griefs assuaged, desires 
crowned with fulfilment, and years led 
through crooked paths of self-will, yet 
ever, by God's grace, to a wider life. 
Forgive my weak forebodings, loving 
Father. Truly I know that thou hast 
hidden the coming year from me, not 
because its sorrows are so great, but 
because I am not strong enough for its 
joys. What wonderful things await me, 
back of the sweetly mysterious cloud ! 
There must be deeper knowledge, for 
thou wilt continue to teach me ; and fuller 
love, for the years bloom ever the richer 
with it ; and wider friendships, for my 
old friends continually bring me new 
ones ; blessed changes that mean no 
loss or sorrow, but only the keenness 
of joy. I will go forth into the year 
with thee, O thou who never with- 
holdest ! 



One Upward Look 

for 

Each Day 

of a 

Month 



FIRST DAY 

ON every hand, O Giver of Good, I 
see the proofs of Thy care for me. 
This room in which I sit is crowded with 
reminders of Thee. The objects of use 
and beauty that fill it, common but won- 
derful, so many and so varied — how 
impossible that I could contrive them or 
deserve them ! The very warmth and 
light that pervade it, the very eyes 
and flesh that take cognizance of light 
and heat, the very life that beats in my 
veins and the intelligence that resides in^ 
my brain, Thou didst implant them all 
and Thou dost momently sustain them. 
When I begin to think what all this 
means, what an infinity of minute and 
loving providences, I am seized with a 
passion of gratitude and bowed with the 
shame of my thanklessness. Forgive 
my unheeding heart, O God. Remind 
me ever of Thyself, even by the with- 



108 THE UPWARD LOOK 

drawal of Thy favors for a time, if I 
forget Thee. For to know Thee is life 
and to fail of Thee is death, forever. 
Amen. 

SECOND DAY 

OGOD, my Judge, I want my heart 
to be ready at any time for Thy 
inspection. I want to keep my life 
clean, and just, and faithful. I know 
not when I shall be called upon for the 
Great Review. It may be to-morrow; 
it may be this hour. And here are, oh, 
so many flaws, and impurities, and infi- 
delities ! Here is so much failure, and 
injustice, and sin ! Not in years can I 
cleanse myself and right myself, — and 
Thou may st come to-morrow, or to-day, 
O Judge ! 

How could I endure it, were not my 
Judge also my Saviour ! Take this poor, 
unworthy life into Thy hands to-day, 
Christ Jesus. Fashion it anew, as Thou 
dost well know how. Prepare it for 
Thine own coming, yea, for Thine in- 



THE UPWARD LOOK iog 

dwelling. I will trust Thee, in this as 
in all things ; and I shall not trust in 
vain. Amen. 

THIRD DAY 

WHAT a blessing is the day's 
work Thou hast given me, O 
Master Workman of the universe ! I 
rejoice in it and in Thee. In it, for the 
exhilaration of endeavor, the exultation 
of achievement ; in Thee, because Thine 
is the material in which I work, and the 
strength with which I work, and the far- 
off, lovely goal toward which my labors 
tend. 

It is a blessing to work with Thee. 
Working with men and under them 
breeds so many misunderstandings, so 
much fretfulness, jealousy, impatience, 
injustice. But Thou knowest my frame. 
Thou knowest when I am doing my 
best. Thou hast patience with my blun- 
ders, Thou dost pardon my errors, Thou 
dost amend my faults, Thou art proud, 
with a Father's pride, of my successes. 



no THE UPWARD LOOK 

Then let me work with Thee to-day. 
Amid all my labor with men, let it be 
first with Thee. Then shall I pass 
serenely through the coming hours, and 
carry large garners up to eventide. Hear 
me, and grant this prayer for Jesus' 
sake. Amen. 

FOURTH DAY 

ALMIGHTY Ruler of the world, 
ransom my thoughts, I pray Thee, 
from the pettiness that confines them. 
How do my prayers wind about myself 1 
Enlarge me with Thy grand designs for 
the nations, Thine age-long purposes 
serene and steady. Let the woes of 
mankind put to shame my fretfulness. 
Let the vast successes of mankind con- 
sole me for my failures. Let me rejoice 
in the wide pleasures of time and space. 
I will work none the less thoroughly and 
zealously, but as a part of a majestic 
whole. So I shall not be affrighted or 
perplexed. So I shall tread the earth, 
not as a hermit, but proudly, as one of 



THE UPWARD LOOK in 

a confident army. So I shall live to- 
day — grant it, my Father ! — as a por- 
tion of Thy will getting done and Thy 
kingdom coming. Amen. 



FIFTH DAY 

WHY will I let myself be fretted 
by men ? Why will I allow the 
trifles of time to vex me ? Father of 
infinite space and endless power, I am 
Thy son! While I am with Thee, about 
Thy tasks, no evil shall befall me. Let 
not the fear of evil, which is the sorest 
evil, assail my spirit. I will walk through 
Thy world serene and confident, for it is 
Thy world. Nothing shall affright me 5 
not even my sins committed, for Thou 
hast forgiven them and cast them behind 
Thee. Thou wilt remember them no 
more forever, and I will remember them 
only to praise Thee. And if my own 
sins shall not dismay me, still less the 
sins of others. Be Thou my peace, O 
God, this day and all days, for the sake 



ii2 THE UPWARD LOOK 

of the Lord Jesus, my Prince of Peace. 
Amen. 



SIXTH DAY 

I AM not sorry that men do not 
understand me, when I remember 
that Thou, Father, dost understand me 
wholly. It is so sweet to have these 
secrets with Thee ! It is so joyous a 
privilege to share with Thee my aspira- 
tions, my hopes, my ambitions for this 
world, my consciousness of rectitude 
when the world misjudges me, — to 
know that Thou dost never misjudge 
me. 

And oh, I am glad that Thou alone 
dost know the secret of my sins ! Well 
for me that others do not see my fair- 
ness, since also they do not see my foul- 
ness. Well for me that my iniquities 
are unveiled only before the eye that is 
acquainted also with all my ways, that is 
cognizant of my heart's desire, through 
all my sinning, for the good. 

Thou art my solace, God, Thou 



THE UPWARD LOOK 113 

art my reward, O God. Thou art my 
protection, O God. Where no one else 
dreams that I need comfort, or deserve 
praise, or require a shield from the ad- 
versary. Thou alone, dear Father, and 
I alone, in blessed, proud companion- 
ship, world without end. Amen. 



SEVENTH DAY 

I BELIEVE that Thou art in my life, 
O God, working with me. Therefore 
when I think of Thine attributes, I will 
think of them as in my life. 

I am not omniscient, but Thou art 
omniscient for me. Nor omnipotent, 
but Thine almightiness is at my com- 
mand. Nor infinitely patient and loving, 
but all Thy tenderness broods over me, 
and will dwell in me. 

My plans stop short with to-morrow, 
but Thy plans for me have no end. My 
courage often falters, but Thou shalt be 
my stay. I am perplexed by many a 
dark riddle, but all is clear to Thee. 



ii4 THE UPWARD LOOK 

In Thee I will live and move and 
have my being. I will trust, and not be 
afraid. Oh, that I may know Thee, and 
Thy power ! I will draw closer to Thee, 
I will rejoice in Thee, I will take to my- 
self the greatest promise of Christ, I in 
Him and He in Thee. Amen. 



EIGHTH DAY 

MY life is full of perplexities and 
troubles. Whatever way I look, 
an ominous barrier confronts me. But 
Thou, Lord, dost see the end from the 
beginning. Thou art acquainted with 
all my ways, ways to come as well as 
ways past Thou hast prepared a road, 
however devious, that will lead me 
around all obstacles, by the side of all 
dangers, through all difficulties, up 
all slopes, over all chasms, and bring 
me at last to a happy home forever. 

Thou shalt be my Guide through this 
day. Thou the chosen Guide of my 
life. Dissipate my gloom with Thy sun- 



THE UPWARD LOOK 115 

shiny hope. Uphold my faltering prog- 
ress with the stay of Thy confidence. 
May I not for a moment forget who is 
my Helper. It is only when I forget 
Thee that I am faint-hearted. When I 
remember Thee, I know that all is well 
with me, in time and eternity. Praise 
and honor be to Thy name, O God, my 
Saviour. Amen. 



NINTH DAY 

WHEN ambitious desires seize 
upon me, seize Thou upon me, 
O God ! Remind me of the King's 
favor, and upon what it depends. Set 
before me the King's likeness, how gen- 
tie, how lowly, how serviceable ! Ac- 
quaint me with the glory of the 
Kingdom, which is righteousness, and 
peace, and joy. Show me the folly of 
petty gains, of time wasted upon trifles, 
of the evanescent applause of world- 
lings. I would hold myself aloof from 
it all, as the crown prince from village 



n6 THE UPWARD LOOK 

wrestling matches or diving for pennies. 
I would look far ahead, to the place 
prepared, the inheritance reserved. I 
would live in the dignity of it, the joyful 
confidence of it, the sufficiency of it. 
Admit me to this grace, I pray Thee, 
my Joint-heir, my Elder Brother. Amen. 



TENTH DAY 

OGOD, who in all Thy universes 
hast so many creatures, beautiful 
and unseemly, active and stolid, helpful 
and harmful, but dost uphold the lives 
of all and minister tenderly to their 
needs, teach me sympathy with uncon- 
genial men. As Thou dost descend into 
the earth with the mole, and move 
through the jungle with the ape, and 
guide the fish to its food, enable me to 
breathe all atmospheres without disgust, 
and to enter all lives with helpfulness. 
What am I above the worm, when 
matched with Thy height, O Ineffable ! 
Teach me the humility of Thy Christ, 



THE UPWARD LOOK 117 

who took the form of infinite debase- 
ment and glorified it into God. So let 
me move among men, and count it my 
crown to wash their feet. Amen. 



ELEVENTH DAY 

GUARD me, O God, against the un- 
seen dangers of this day. Every 
moment, from first to last, is open to 
Thee. It is all a journey that Thy 
thought has travelled. Thou canst 
guide me through it because Thou hast 
been through it. The temptation lurk- 
ing for me behind some false pleasure, 
Thou hast noted it. A failure or flaw 
in my work, it is already before Thine 
eyes. The friends I am to meet, the 
opportunities I am to enjoy, the delights 
that will minister to me, they are pres- 
ent even now in Thy consciousness. 

And so, committing myself to Thee, 
I shall not be surprised by the sudden 
assault of Satan, nor daunted by failure, 
nor over-elated by success, nor enervated 



n8 THE UPWARD LOOK 

by delight. I shall become a part of 
Thy long thinking, Thy large designs. 
I shall enter into Thy peace. I shall 
live somewhat as my God lives, dwelling 
indeed in Him and He in me. May 
this be my blessed lot, Lord Jesus, to- 
day and all days. Amen. 



TWELFTH DAY 

IT is easy to live a day without thought 
of Thee, Thou ever-present Christ. 
It is easy, and it should be impossible. 
For Thou art always thinking of me. 
No pleasure brightens my life but is Thy 
thought made manifest. I win no suc- 
cess that is not the accomplishment of 
some plan of Thine for me. In the ful- 
filment of every task, it is Thou that 
dost work and art satisfied. These 
many delights of earth and air, these 
many interests of the busy world that 
crowd upon me, are all — Thou, Thou ! 
Yet I can forget Thee ; for a day or a 
week forget Thee ! 



THE UPWARD LOOK 119 

Let not this be my sin to-day, my 
Saviour, my Friend. Let it not be my 
sin, my loneliness, and my loss. Cause 
me to see Thee and hear Thee in every 
sight and sound, and so shall I come to 
the day's end in great peace. For I do 
love Thee, Lord Jesus. Amen. 



THIRTEENTH DAY 

MY weak will wanders here and 
there, it falters before a pebble, 
it faints beneath a sneer. Daily and 
hourly, O God, I need Thy fixity of pur- 
pose, Thy dauntlessness of zeal. Why 
should my life, the oak of unceasing 
ages, bend to the zephyrs of time ? My 
heart is set upon Thee, O God. I have 
one goal, Thy heaven ; one ambition, 
Thy approval ; one unfailing resource, 
Thy presence and power. Let me not 
go staggering through this day. Let 
me not waver at the beck of human 
opinion. Let me not yield to worldly 
enticements. My eye is upon Thy face, 



120 THE UPWARD LOOK 

in this blessed morning hour. Let me 
not lose the vision in the crowd. As a 
banner before a knight, move steadily 
in advance, O Face of serenity and con- 
quest ! Amen. 



FOURTEENTH DAY 

MAINTAIN me this day, Lord 
Jesus, in the secret of Thy peace. 
I do not ask to be withdrawn from men 
or my tasks, but that Thou wilt go with 
me, and wrap me about with Thy pres- 
ence. If harassments await me, Thou 
wilt await me. If hatred storm upon 
me, or the bitterness of opposition, 
Thou wilt make a calm in the midst of 
the tempest, and place me there. Un- 
known dangers may be in the day, but 
a known Safety is in it Rebuke my 
petulance and give me grace ; my fickle- 
ness and give me constancy ; my infi- 
delity and give me faith. Fill the day 
with romance, O Creator ! Enrapture 
me with the charms of discovery — to 



THE UPWARD LOOK 121 

know Thee better, and myself, and our 
world ! Let us go faring forth, Jesus, 
my Guide, and the trees shall sing above 
us, and the earth be firm beneath our 
feet, and a happy goal shall come in 
view before the sunset. For Thou art 
my Guide, Lord Jesus. Amen. 



FIFTEENTH DAY 

I WILL rejoice, to-day, in the Lord ! 
My life shall float buoyantly upon 
the stream of His providence. I will 
catch His sunshine, and reflect it in 
merry sparkles. I will put my voice in 
tune with the song of creation. 

Whatever of doubt or gloom assails 
me, I will remember that it is not God's, 
but that the world is God's, and life and 
death and the great eternity are God's, 
and I am God's, and all is well. I shall 
know that all is well, and I shall lift up 
my head. 

This is my hope and prayer for the 
day, my Father. And if I fail in faith. 



i22 THE UPWARD LOOK 

wilt Thou not remind me of Thyself ; 
by some sharp warning remind me, and 
turn me from my infidelity. For Thine 
is the joy everlasting, and Thine is the 
truth eternal, and Thine is the happy 
life that Jesus lived before men, which 
I would imitate this day. In His name 
of light and graciousness. Amen. 



SIXTEENTH DAY 

WHEN the world annoys me with 
its fretting cares, speak a quiet 
word to my soul, O Christ. Call me 
away to be with Thee. Without leaving 
my tasks, without leaving the throng of 
men, may I make the very thought of 
Thee a sanctuary. There receive me 
into Thy peace. There teach me my 
eternal destiny. There lift me above 
my worries into the region of Thy calm. 
Lay upon my troubled soul the benedic- 
tion of Thy serenity. Remind me of 
Thy presence with me always, of Thy 
power always at hand, of Thy wisdom 



THE UPWARD LOOK 123 

ever ready. And send me forth again 
from this moment's sanctuary with a 
quiet pulse, and a heart confident and 
rested. For this blessed communion I 
will give Thee endless praise, my Saviour 
and my Friend. Amen. 



SEVENTEENTH DAY 

I KNOW not what temptations will 
assail me to-day, but I know they 
will be many, and I know that not one 
of them will herald its approach. They 
will spring upon me out of ambush. 
They will leap upon me when I am 
busy with some task, or engrossed in 
some pleasure, or wrapped in forget- 
fulness. 

What shall I do, that I may not be 
captured by them ? How may I carry 
through the day the hatred of vice, the 
pure desires, the vision of God, where- 
with the morning hour has ennobled 
me ? 

Only by Thy grace in my heart, 



i2 4 THE UPWARD LOOK 

Father holy and puissant ! I will watch 
with Thee this day. I will maintain my 
soul in the thought of Thee. I will not 
allow things temporal to have dominion 
over my immortal spirit. I will not 
become too busy for the possibility of 
prayer, too merry for the remembrance 
of danger, too satisfied for the warning 
of humility. I will hold Thy hand 
through the coming hours, dear Father; 
and oh, do Thou hold mine ! Amen. 



EIGHTEENTH DAY 

IN foolish pride I felt strong in my- 
self, O Thou, my Strength. Forgive 
my presumption as I mourn my failure. 
Help me to keep continually framed on 
my lips the confession, " My strength is 
the Lord." If I am tempted to forget 
Thee, as Israel forgot Thee, quicken 
Thou my memory. When I have tried to 
walk away from Thee, my steps have tot- 
tered as those of a child. Draw me to 
Thyself in this hour of communion, so 



THE UPWARD LOOK 125 

that I may never want to stray again. 
Teach me the full meaning of " I need 
Thee every hour." Then shall I be strong 
in Thy strength, and glorify Thee, 
through Jesus Christ. Amen. 



NINETEENTH DAY 

GOD of all patience, help me, I pray 
Thee, to be patient with myself. 
When temptations conquer me, again 
and again, help me not to give myself 
up. When my endeavors fail, again 
and again, maintain my courage and 
confidence. When sorrows gather 
thickly around me, be Thou my abiding 
sunshine. Endow me with Thy perse- 
verance. May I never abandon my- 
self while Thou dost not abandon me. 
May I rise undismayed from every fall, 
rising into Thy loving, outstretched 
arms. Not to groyr carelessly secure, 
resting too easily in Thy forgiveness. 
Not to become deadened against sin, 
forgetful how Thou dost hate it. But 



126 THE UPWARD LOOK 

only to have strength to fight, only to 
get on my feet again, and yet again, and 
always again, till in Thy strength and 
by Thy grace the final victory comes. 
This I ask for Jesus' sake. Amen. 



TWENTIETH DAY 

I CANNOT leave my work, dear Lord. 
The cares of the world press upon 
me, and hem me in on all sides. But I 
want to find Thee in the midst of them. 
I want to come upon Thee, as Thy 
disciples met Thee in Jerusalem or 
Capernaum, in some crowd at a street 
corner, or among the workmen in some 
shop. Disclose Thyself to me in Thine 
own good time and way, but show me 
Thyself. Come to me as I am on the 
point of yielding to the world. Press 
back its allurements with Thy nail- 
pierced hands. Point me to the waiting 
skies. Testify to me anew of the home 
Thou hast prepared for me. Assure 
me of the reality of unseen things. 



THE UPWARD LOOK 127 

Speak to my soul with the serenity that 
calms all its turmoil and the confidence 
that arouses all its courage. Come near 
me, be with me, through all the day, 
Lord Jesus, and bestow upon its close 
the benediction of Thy peace. In Thy 
blessed name I ask it. Amen. 



TWENTY -FIRST DAY 

THOU shalt be my joy, O Christ ; 
my joy, my confidence, my peace. 
I will rest my life in Thee. When frets 
annoy, they shall not annoy me, because 
I am hidden in Thy serenity. When 
temptation assails, it shall not assail me, 
because I am wrapped in Thy righteous- 
ness. When sorrows come like the 
blackness of midnight, they shall not 
shroud my spirit, because it stays where 
Thy light shines in a cloudless heaven. 
Seize me, O Christ, in a resistless, end- 
less grasp ! Never let me go, dear Mas- 
ter ! Let no smallest portion of my 
being go, lest it draw the remainder 



i28 THE UPWARD LOOK 

after it. I would be wholly Thine, for- 
ever Thine, exultantly Thine, O Christ 
of Calvary, O Christ of Olivet. Amen. 



TWENTY -SECOND DAY 

WHAT satisfaction shall I find in 
any achievement, compared with 
the joy of Thy praise, O Most High ? 
What pleasure can I anticipate in any 
delight of earth, set beside the bliss 
of Thy companionship, O Christ, my 
Brother ? What danger shall daunt me, 
if Thou dost beckon ? What allurement 
shall hold me, if Thou dost call ? 

Alas ! though my conscience speaks 
thus, my will is feeble, my habits are 
chains. How often I choose the world 
instead of heaven, and Satan instead of 
my Redeemer ! How often I set aside 
my happiness and seek after my misery ! 

For without Thee, Lord Jesus, I can- 
not seek after Thee. Thou must be my 
desire, and Thou must be my will I 
must rest wholly in Thee, even for the 



THE UPWARD LOOK 129 

impulse toward Thee. I must be noth- 
ing, and Thou all in all. And when thus, 
by Thy grace, I become at one with 
Thee, I shall for the first time be some- 
thing, and enter into Thy abundant life. 
Grant this petition, O Christ, for Thy 
holy name's sake. Amen. 



TWENTY -THIRD DAY 

AS I enter upon this day, O my 
Father, help me to leave self be- 
hind me, and take Thee with me. Nay, 
let me not think of taking Thee with me, 
but of going forth with Thee, not upon 
my tasks but upon Thine. When per- 
plexities confront me through the day, 
assure me that Thou also art confronted 
by them, and wilt solve them all. When 
failures daunt me, make me sensible of 
the presence of one who never knew 
failure. Leave me not for a moment to 
my own devices. Choose for me every 
smallest task. Forbid me to think about 
myself at all, whether I am succeeding, 



i 3 o THE UPWARD LOOK 

how I am appearing, what will be my 
reward ; and maintain before my mind 
the absorbing vision of Thy glory. 
Through all this day I would live for 
other men and for Thee, as Thy Son 
lived, in His power, and for His dear 
sake. Amen. 



TWENTY -FOURTH DAY 

I NEED no more blessings, Lord. I 
need eyes to see what I have. I 
need a tongue to sing their praises. 
I need a heart to rejoice in them all the 
day long. 

Thou hast spread the sunshine all 
about me, and I have been searching 
out the shadows. Thou hast given me 
many friends, and I have been glowering 
over my few enemies. Thou hast gifted 
me with the power to do much and gain 
much, and I have rather coveted what 
talents I do not possess than used the 
abilities I have. 

Ah, what a pitiful life I live, gracious 



THE UPWARD LOOK 131 

Father ! Forgive me, and lift me into 
something of Thy largeness of mind. 
Take me out of my petty world into Thy 
great one. Set me Thy comprehensive 
tasks. Bid me sweep one of Thy vast 
horizons. Train me in *Thy workshops, 
by whatever toil, till I have developed, 
somewhat, the measure of the stature of 
the fulness of Christ. Amen. 



TWENTY -FIFTH DAY 

LET Thy grace dwelling in my heart 
preserve me, O my Father, from 
all thoughts of self that embitter me with 
envy, or weaken me with despondency, 
or puff me up with pride, or vex me with 
discontent. Wean my desires, O God, 
from those objects that never can satisfy 
them, and fix me on the eternal good. 

When I fall, let me rejoice that Thy 
purpose has not slipped. When adver- 
sity overtakes me, let me be glad that 
Thy church is prosperous. In my pov- 
erty I will exult, since heaven is rich. 



i 3 2 THE UPWARD LOOK 

Eternity shall be my time, and the celes- 
tial city shall be my abode, beginning 
on earth, and now. 

I will not be cast down, when I might 
triumph. I will not be a serf, where I 
might reign. Thine be the kingdom, 
and the power, and the glory. And 
Thine is mine, through Jesus Christ, my 
Elder Brother, my Joint-heir. Amen. 



TWENTY -SIXTH DAY 

PRAISE to Thee, Thou glorious 
Creator, for this frame of beauty, 
this garden of pleasures, this marvellous 
earth ! I wander in ecstasy through its 
paths. The fragrance grows ever 
sweeter, the flowers more fair. 

Thou art not jealous of Thine own 
work, my Father. Thou dost not fear 
for heaven when men love earth. In 
every grass blade, in every bit of granite, 
in every leaf on the trees, I see Thy 
goodness mirrored. No least fragment 
of this -crowded creation but has a finger 



THE UPWARD LOOK 133 

pointing upward. The world is full of 
voices saying, " If earth is fair, how fair 
must heaven be ! " 

Lord, I will go gladly where Thou 
callest me, here or there, onward or 
upward. There can be no lack of 
beauty or joy where Thou art. The 
earth is already a heaven, and heaven 
will have the homelikeness of earth, if 
only Thou art my heaven within, 
blessed Lord Jesus. Amen. 



TWENTY -SEVENTH DAY 

I AM sinful, but I thank Thee that I 
know my sins. Daily show me my 
evil heart, O God ! 

I am sinful, but I thank Thee that 
I am struggling against my sins. Be 
my helper, O my Lord ! 

I am sinful, but I thank Thee that I 
know the way toward Thee, my Saviour. 
Deliver me from evil, O Christ ! 

I am sinful, but I thank Thee that 
even my sins force me closer to Thee. 



i 3 4 THE UPWARD LOOK 

Grant me this recompense out of the 
shame of them, my Father ! 

I am sinful, but I thank Thee that I 
can forget my sins, and go on in the 
consciousness of a white life. Wash 
me, O Thou Crucified One, and I shall 
be whiter than snow. Amen. 



TWENTY -EIGHTH DAY 

IT is hard to withdraw to Thee from 
the midst of my thronging cares. 
Let me find Thee in them, O Thou 
Blessed One ! Thy presence, when I 
know it, will make a peace in the centre 
of any turmoil, a refuge of serenity 
where harshest clamor beats around me. 
I will not go where I cannot find 
Thee. I will engage only in the work 
which Thou canst ennoble by Thy com- 
panionship. I will carry with me the 
sense of Thy nearness, and O grant 
that I may never be surprised from it! 
Grant that lower ambitions may not 
have dominion over me, but only to 



THE UPWARD LOOK 135 

merit Thy approval. Grant that petty 
fears may not harass me, but only the 
solemn fear of Thy displeasure. 

Thus lead me, Christ, my Brother, 
my God, to pray through all my service 
and serve through all my praying, and 
trust Thee and rejoice in Thee forever. 
Amen. 

TWENTY -NINTH DAY 

LORD, make Thyself real to me. 
Nay, Lord, I would make Thee 
real to myself. I will think how Thou 
didst sit by the well at Samaria ; and 
Thou art beside me now. I will re- 
member how Thou didst aid the disciples 
in their fishing ; and Thou wilt help me 
at my very next task. I will recall how 
Thou didst raise the widow's son, and 
with confidence I will lay before Thee 
the sorrows of my dear ones. Thou 
wert tempted in the desert, I remember 
that; and Thou art looking now into my 
tempted soul, and Thou hast at hand 
the right weapon against the adversary. 



136 THE UPWARD LOOK 

Thou wert there. Thou art here. I 
see Thee, I hear Thee, I touch Thee, 
O Thou living Saviour ! Blessed be 
Thy name, that Thou dost come to me, 
that Thou dost love me, that Thou art 
eager to help me. Amen. 



THIRTIETH DAY 

FATHER, I care too much about 
men's opinions, and too little about 
Thine. If a friend has a word of blame, 
I allow it to embitter my day and 
injure my work. Let me learn to ask, 
with each reproof or criticism, whether 
Thou wouldst lay it upon me. If so, 
help me to obey it as from Thee, and 
thank my friend as Thy messenger. If 
my conscience does not accept it as a 
word from Thee, help me to go on my 
way as if it had not been spoken, in 
love to my friend, and in serene con- 
fidence for myself. 

I would live to Thee, dear Lord, and 
not to men. I would serve eternity and 



THE UPWARD LOOK 137 

not time. I would seek the rewards of 
heaven rather than the plaudits of 
earth. Amen. 



THIRTY -FIRST DAY 

THOU hast surrounded me with 
precious human love, my Father, 
even as Thou hast given me the encom- 
passing air and sunshine. Nay, the air 
may grow cold and foul, and the sun 
may pass beneath a cloud or below the 
horizon, but this love never fails. 

How I bless Thee for it ! How I 
implore Thee to preserve my dear ones ! 
Surround them this day and all days 
with Thy tenderest ministrations. Send 
the most gracious angels to attend them, 
for they are so constantly serving others. 
Hold far from them sickness, poverty, 
grief, and death. Grant them the peace 
of heaven's warm valleys. Place in 
their hearts the singing joy of seraphim. 
Uphold them in their tasks that are 



138 THE UPWARD LOOK 

often so heavy, and lighten their hearts 
with it all. 

I am filled with shame when I think 
how unworthy I am of them, how little 
time and thought I give them. Forbid 
that I should postpone love to beyond 
the Jordan — love and the showing of 
love. Teach me wherein true life con- 
sists, and that my dear ones need less 
my money than me. 

Thou hast shut us up in a house 
together. May we transform it — they 
and I — into a very portal of heaven. 
In the name of Christ, the Lord of my 
home and of all homes. Amen. 



THE END. 



1903 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper proc 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Dec. 2004 



